


Chest Pains

by Svn_f1ower



Series: Commissions [1]
Category: Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Hurt Peter Parker, Precious Peter Parker, Premature Birth, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-24
Updated: 2019-06-24
Packaged: 2020-05-19 03:42:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19348798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Svn_f1ower/pseuds/Svn_f1ower
Summary: “I don’t want him to see me as a… y’know, like some kid he has to keep an eye on.” May tilted her head in confusion and Peter winced internally as he explained. “I don’t want him having to worry about me any more than he already does. Like… hovering as if I’m gonna have a heart attack.”





	Chest Pains

**Author's Note:**

> Ah! My first commission <3 I'm so excited to share this!
> 
> My tumblr is agib-2002 - feel free to message, leave asks, etc.
> 
> <3

“So?”

 

“Hm?”

 

“How was school today?”

 

“Uh, it was – yeah, it was alright. Ned and I got some work done for our chem assignment, so that was good.” Peter swirled his spoon around the edge of his bowl, resisting the urge to wrinkle his nose as he picked at a loose hangnail distractedly. May was watching him from the bench. Her own dinner was in the microwave heating up, she had only just got home from work.

 

“Well, that’s good,” she said positively. “How’s your chest feeling?”

 

“ _May_ ,” Peter sighed. He put his spoon beside his bowl as she quirked an eyebrow and set her own plate down at the table. “I’m okay, my chest is fine.” He took a breath and blew it out slowly, demonstrating to his over paranoid aunt that everything was under control. “It’s been like… an entire week. The pains are fine, they’re spread out. Everything’s cool.”

 

“Mmm,” May hummed, roaming an eye over Peter as if to check for any sign of pain. “Okay, but you let me know if you feel funny or anything and I can give the doctor a call to adjust the Nitrate dosage.”

 

“I’m alright May, honestly.” Peter shot her a smile through his last mouthful of soup. May shook her head but returned it fondly. “It’s still cool if I patrol tomorrow afternoon?” He asked, instinctively widening his eyes in question.

 

“Be back before eleven, and make sure you don’t forget about your lab session with Tony on Friday. He mentioned something about nano-whatever’s.” May gave Peter the thumbs up as he washed his dish and motioned to his room to be excused from the table.

 

“Nanotech, that’s what we’re calling them –” Peter laughed.

 

“Like from every science movie ever!” May called as Peter rounded the corner into the hall and shuffled to his room. He huffed a quiet laugh to himself and sat down at his desk chair with a squeak of the wheels. The late evening sun left bright streaks across the glossy cover of his science notebook. He sighed, remembering the formulas he had to simplify for homework.

 

Similarly to every other kid his age, Peter disregarded the thought for a moment as he turned his attention to his phone, which buzzed loudly in the silence of his bedroom. He hummed quietly as he flipped it over with two fingers and saw the contact name: _Tin Man_. Peter really regretted letting Wade play around with the contact names on his phone.

 

_**Hey kid, don’t forget lab session this Fri. You’re on take-out choice this week.** _

 

“Nice,” Peter muttered to himself. A mental image of four boxes of pizza stacked beside him and Tony at the lab filled his mind.

 

_**Pizza pls!**_ He replied eagerly. A small part of him screamed, as usual, when the reality of the whole situation made itself present. Sometimes Peter couldn’t really fathom the fact that he casually conversed with _Tony Stark_ over text.

 

His life really had imploded ever since that Oscorp field trip.

 

Peter jolted out of his own head as there was a knock on his bedroom door.

 

“Hey sweetie,” May called as her head poked past the doorframe. “Just letting you know we’ve got an echocardiogram scheduled for next week.” She smiled, the lines at the sides of her eyes crinkled kindly and Peter relaxed.

 

“Okay, I won’t forget. I just… we don’t have to go y’know? It was just a little incident, I’m all good now.” May cocked her head in warning. “It’s just so expens –”

 

“ _Ah, ah, ah_.” May tutted, brushing Peter’s worry off easily. “I’d rather have peace of mind and pick up an extra shift next week than have you dropping to the floor in the middle of gym class with a heart attack.” Peter huffed gratingly, he hated when May worried about him to the point of frantically booking doctor’s appointments. It’s not like he’d actually get a heart attack… or at least not _likely_. “No arguments, Pete,” she pressed.

 

“ _Okay_ , okay,” he relented. May gave a decisive nod and pulled the door shut with a click. Peter absentmindedly prodded at his chest with his finger. He frowned. He hated the doctors; it was eighty percent waiting around and it always smelled of antiseptic. He couldn’t wait to patrol; he’d rather focus on Wade’s terrible quips then worry over a little chest pain.

 

\---- **10th August, 2001** \----

 

_“Richard this is insane, you’re crazy. It’s cramps. I’m not going into la – ahh ow, ow,_ shit _!” Mary Parker huffed, her hands jerking upwards from her lap to press against her stomach. “Okay, maybe this is just happening now.” She hissed between grit teeth._

_“Eleven weeks early,” Richard winced. He took Mary’s arm and waited until the contraction subsided before leading her to the car. “What did the birthing books say about premature children? How early is eleven weeks?”_

_“Not ideal, but babies born at twenty-three and twenty-four weeks have been fine, so he should be okay.” Mary said as she clipped herself into her seat and rubbed a gentle hand over the prevalent bump of her stomach._

 

\----

 

Peter pushed open the front doors with his shoulder, bopping his head wearily to the music blasting from his headphones. Happy was parked, leant against the door of the black car he always had. He watched Peter bounding down the concrete steps and gave a curt nod as the boy yanked the cord from his headphones and slid happily into the backseat.

 

“Hi Hap!” He exclaimed as his seat belt clicked obviously. Happy only nodded in response, a quick glance in the rear-view mirror was all he could spare as he navigated through the mass of high schoolers pouring out through the parking lot like a dense wave.

 

“Tony’s up in the lab, can I trust you to not break anything on the elevator ride up?” He joked.

 

“Uh…” Peter squinted at Happy in the rear-view mirror. “Probably not,” he grinned. Happy rolled his eyes and muttered something about _setting Dum-E on your ass, kid_.

 

Peter occupied himself well enough in the backseat while Happy weaved through rush hour traffic. He replied to Wade’s recent spam of memes that had nothing to do with anything really, and then squirmed around in his seat, tapping his feet together and trying fruitlessly to re-lace his torn and faded converse.

 

“Remember the bots are watching,” Happy said without a hint of seriousness in his tone as Peter slipped out of the car and made his way to the elevator. He rolled his eyes and gave a half-hearted wave in the driver’s direction.

 

“Hi, FRI,” Peter babbled, clicking his heels together as the A.I guided the doors of the elevator shut and began rising upwards.

 

“Good afternoon, Mr. Parker.” FRIDAY answered.

 

“You can call me Peter, you know?” He looked up to the ceiling, “it’s like Mr. Stark always complains when I call him Mr. Stark. He says it makes him feel old.” Peter smiled, “only I’m allowed to call him that,” he said through his grin.

 

“That you are, Peter. Sir doesn’t seem to mind.” FRIDAY answered as the doors slid back open. Tony was facing away from the elevator, his back to Peter and his head ducked down intently in a boot thrustor he was tinkering with.

 

“What have I said about making it sound like I have a heart, FRIDAY?” Tony called sarcastically, still not looking up from his work.

 

“It’s not like she’s lying, Mr. Stark,” Peter greeted, the smile still on his face. “You love me,” he teased. His bag hit the floor beside the bench, and he spun around once in a desk chair before pulling himself up beside whatever was occupying his mentor’s attention.

 

“Sure, kid,” Tony scoffed. He dropped a wire cutter and twisted a pair of wires together haphazardly. “We got a lot to cover today, seeing as you’re ditching me next Tuesday.”

 

“ _Pshh_ ,” Peter waved a hand dismissively. “You’re just grouchy because you’re gonna miss me,” he laughed.

 

“Please,” Tony scoffed right back. “As if I couldn’t entertain myself.” He tilted his chair, swivelling to face Peter. “I’ll just watch A New Hope without you,” he prodded.

 

“You wouldn’t dare,” Peter said with mock horror. Tony wagged a lazy finger in his direction.

 

“What’s more fun than Nanotech anyway?” He asked. Peter shrugged like he didn’t want to answer. “May mentioned you had an appointment,” Tony pressed, turning back to his work to take some of the intensity off Peter’s shoulders.

 

“Just a check-up,” he muttered. “So, what’re we working on today?” He steered the subject away from himself. He didn’t want Tony worrying about him, treating him like more of a kid.

 

“Nanotech I guess, I’ve been wanting to implement something that can shrink them down a bit. Like, small enough that it could hide in a hearing aid, or a tooth filling, maybe nanotech nail polish. Just in case.” Tony blinked, his attention obviously flickering for a moment.

 

“I think that’s a good idea,” Peter encouraged. He knew Tony was thinking of Afghanistan, he could read him well enough by now.

 

“So, you still young enough for a lollipop after your doctor appointment?” Tony said with a smirk. Peter sighed, half because of the terrible joke but also because the subject was back on him again. “I’ll take that as a resounding no,” Tony continued. Silence hung between them for a moment, Peter twirled a mechanical pencil across his fingertips lazily. “You are okay though.” It sounded more like a statement than a question, but Peter nodded with a small shrug all the same.

 

“I’ll be fine,” he promised. “It’s all good,” he continued lightly, shifting the focus off himself for the second time. Tony seemed to consider that for a moment, his eyebrows scrunching up analytically, like his protégé was a math equation he couldn’t quite wrap his head around.

 

“Okay, I trust you, kid.”

 

Peter smiled, flipping a page on the book splayed beside Tony’s elbow.

 

“Let’s do this,” he said pleasingly.

 

“Right you are,” Tony laughed.

 

\----

 

“May, May c’mon – please, this is so dumb,” Peter groaned. “Someone paid him to say this, surely. _Surely_ you aren’t going to make me do this.” He ran his finger along the edge of the blue and pink business card. It looked like a cotton candy coloured plate of bull shi –

 

“Peter, just give it a chance,” May said tiredly. She shoved a key into the front lock and bumped open the door to their apartment with a huff. “I know what you’re thinking –”

 

“ _That this is stupid and a waste of money_.”

 

“– and I want you to keep an open mind,” she finished, giving him a pointed look despite completely ignoring the fact that he interrupted. “You never know, it could help!” She dropped the box of takeout on the counter and pulled out two plates while Peter puled a face at the business card again, flicking it in the general direction of the bin.

 

“I’m not taking a class that teaches me how to _breathe properly_ May.” Peter slumped down in a chair and watched his aunt prepping an early dinner.

 

“You know that’s not the only thing the course does. It’s for anxiety and stress, to help prevent whatever the doctor said –”

 

“Variant angina occurs when your artery has a spasm that causes it to tighten, which disrupts the blood supply to the heart. _Blah, blah_ , this can be triggered by, stress, medicines, smoking, or cocaine use. Don’t do drugs or you’ll have a heart attack, _blah, blah_!” Peter butted in quickly. “I know, I’ve heard the exact same thing from every doctor since I was like… eight. I get it, I do.”

 

May sighed, rubbing the back of her hand across her forehead, pushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

 

“Don’t dismiss it just yet, ask Tony how he deals with his breathing –” Peter pulled a face to express how little he liked that idea. “Don’t give me that look mister, he’s been through similar stuff to you, what with all the _superhero…ing_ you do, not to mention how weak his heart is with the reactor.”

 

“Huh,” Peter hummed, “I guess so. I never really thought of that.” But then again… “I don’t want him to see me as a… y’know, like some kid he has to keep an eye on.” May tilted her head in confusion and Peter winced internally as he explained. “I don’t want him having to worry about me any more than he already does. Like… hovering as if I’m gonna have a heart attack.”

 

“Well you will eventually if you keep on worrying like that,” May shot back with a smug smile. Peter rolled his eyes and nodded in thanks as she slid a plate over to him. “Don’t forget he does care, and I’m sure he’s familiar with anxiety, it’s common, Pete.”

 

“Mm, yeah,” he shrugged. He didn’t particularly want to tell Tony, especially considering he was already pretty bad at ‘forgetting’ to mention scrapes and bruises he acquired from patrol. “I guess if he ever asks, I can let him know what’s up.” May nodded, giving him an encouraging look. “But it’ll just… make him worry more.”

 

May understood, even if she wasn’t privy to the amount that Tony actually worried and fussed over every little fracture or cut that Peter swung home with. She grasped the concept that Peter wanted to avoid giving his mentor a reason to worry if he could.

 

\----

 

Peter was tired.

 

So, _so_ , tired.

 

He skipped out on the last two periods of school after his chest flared up during decathlon practice. Having the fiery pain creeping from his chest and squeezing a vice grip across his throat only set off his anxiety like an alarm bell, and that’s how he ended up in the school’s medical room, with two Aspirin and a glass of water next to his face.

 

“What’ve you eaten today, dear?” The nurse-slash-receptionist asked, not unkindly.

 

“Toast f’r breakfast, some fruit at break and then s’me chips after that.” Peter mumbled in reply, taking a calming breath when he momentarily forgot to feed his lungs oxygen.

 

“Mhm, yes,” she muttered, scratching something down on a medical file. “What kind of chips?” Peter squinted; the blaring fluorescent lights were giving him even more of a headache. He didn’t really understand why the nurse was asking, but he answered anyway, his eyes closing gently.

 

“Pr’tty sure they were salt n’ vinegar.” He heard a tut and opened one eye again. The nurse shook her head disapprovingly and clicked her tongue.

 

“You should try to steer clear of food with too much sodium. Ideally, your diet shouldn’t have much salt in it.” She pursed her lips, looking half empathetic and half critical. “They could have triggered the chest pains.”

 

Peter resisted the strong urge to groan and roll his eyes, but it would aggravate his headache, and the woman was only doing her job. His diet really didn’t have much of an impact on the pain flares, mainly because he had such a fast spider-metabolism that it made no difference whatsoever. He would have already metabolised the salt by now, in fact he probably metabolised it as he ate. “My grandson has angina, so I understand how you’re feeling. Do you want an icepack? Or maybe a wheat bag, if I heat it up?”

 

Peter shook his head, curling his hands further around himself like a self-embrace. He just wanted to lay there until Happy texted him to say he was in the parking lot. Peter couldn’t deal with anymore moving around unless he wanted to risk passing out like the last time he ignored chest pains at school. He might have still had a bruise from the linoleum meeting his face.

 

The nurse seemed to understand without Peter having to explain. “Okay sweetie, well just give me a yell if you want to sign out early or if you need anything. I’ll just be right outside.” Peter gave a little hum of appreciation and the lady patted the doorframe in answer.

 

Peter rolled onto his side and let his head sink into the pillows with a soft huff. He wondered if he should say something to Mr. Stark. There was always a possibility that he had some ideas on how to fix things – but then again he could just freak out a bit and follow Peter around with a metaphorical roll of bubble wrap trying to protect him from everything.

 

_Newsflash_ , Peter thought, _vigilantes and superheroes don’t exactly get to avoid anxiety and stress inducing situations all that often_.

 

Peter lay still for about twenty minutes before he felt confident enough in the lack of residual pains that he gingerly shifted into an upright position with a groan. His fingers trembled as he grasped the plastic cup of water, but he shook it off when he had swallowed about half of the cup. He felt a bit out of it, dizzy but not nauseous from the pain anymore.

 

His phone vibrated from his pocket, and Peter glanced down briefly, confirming it was Happy before downing the rest of the water and standing up with a second huff. _Here we go_ , he thought to himself stiffly.

 

The nurse smiled sympathetically as he slipped out the entrance with a grateful wave. His fist clenched on his bag straps as he wove his way through the halls and out the front door, a few minutes before the final bell. He was glad, because there was no way he’d have been able to cope with a hallway full of kids jostling and bumping against each other with a few curses and muttered complaints sprinkled through. 

 

Happy quirked his brow when Peter walked across the concrete earlier than normal and slid into the backseat.

 

“You’re early,” he pointed out oh-so-helpfully. He pulled out of the parking lot in one smooth turn, not needing to worry about idiotic teens darting across the pavement for no good reason. “Playing hooky, huh?”

 

“As if,” Peter scoffed with a hint of humour. He was pretty certain Happy and Tony both knew how unlikely of an occurrence Peter Parker skipping school was. “How’ve you been? I saw Mr. Stark on the news the other day, and you were in the background by the car I think.”

 

“Yeah, had to get to another press conference right after. We cut it close, but you know boss, _loves to be fashionably late_.” Happy grunted a laugh as Peter parroted the phrase. They knew how much Tony loved to ‘arrive in style’ as he called it.

 

“What about you, hm? Lookin’ a bit paler than usual.”

 

“Well, you know me, the suit doesn’t exactly have a tanning feature yet.” He laughed, a little awkwardly, but Happy gave a chuckle from the front seat as he wove through the beginnings of rush hour traffic.

 

“Tony’s been moping a bit, complaining he didn’t get his fix of junk food last week.” Happy thrummed his thumbs along the steering wheel as he waited for a response from the backseat.

 

“I guess he’s peeved I ditched him for a doctor’s appointment. I probably should have let him know he can still order takeout without me.” He laughed a little, picturing a petulant Tony sat in the lab, huffing over the lack of greasy pizza in his lap. “Maybe we should _swing_ past Delmar’s and pick something up for him.”

 

Happy gave an aggressive grunt at Peter’s disappointing attempt at a pun, but he flicked the indicator on and turned into the opposite lane next to Delmar’s all the same. “Thank you Happy!” Peter chirped with a grin as he slid out of the backseat and slipped through the steady stream of business men and women who’s heels clicked against the pavement.

 

Peter got himself the usual, plus an extra two sandwiches for Tony, because he didn’t know which he would prefer.

 

“How you doing?” Delmar asked as he placed a bag of gummy worms into Peter’s bag, just because he was a regular.

 

“Good enough,” he answered, scooping the bag under his arm and giving a small wave to the cat perched atop the display case.

 

Peter felt his chest constrict as he nudged the door open, he sighed, forcing himself to take a deep breath.

 

“Tell your aunt I said hi,” Peter heard from behind him as he stumbled into the street and feverishly apologised to the people who had to skirt around him.

 

“You alright?” Happy asked as he watched Peter clamber into the backseat with a pained expression plastered across his face.

 

“Just, probably ate s’mething weird,” Peter dismissed quickly.

 

“This have anything to do with you getting out early today, kid?” Happy squinted analytically at Peter, who was squirming around in the backseat. He had a hand splayed across his chest, his eyes squeezed shut and was taking long, drawn-out breaths every few seconds. “You need me to pull over?” Happy asked, concern lacing his tone. If Peter wasn’t in so much pain and focused on his breathing, he would have been touched that Happy peeled back his layer of disinterest and sarcasm.

 

“ _Mm_ , no – no, just… I’m good, just gimme a – a minute.” He waved an arm dismissively, hoping Happy would take his word. His fingers shook slightly as he gripped the seatbelt and laid his palm flat against his diaphragm. “Just some random chest pains,” he lied, “I’ll be cool.”

 

Happy bit back a comment about how _not fine_ Peter looked and continued to drive towards the tower. He figured Tony would be alright grilling the kid for a real answer.

 

Peter spent the rest of the drive with his head laid back against the headrest, his breathing slowly evened out and the pain lessened. He knew that if May had been around, he’d be sat in a hospital waiting room. He kept catching Happy sneaking worried glances at him in the mirror, and his hearing didn’t stop working, so it wasn’t a surprise when he heard a soft request for FRIDAY to do a subtle scan for injury’s when Peter wandered into the elevator.

 

“Take it easy, kid.” Happy said as he sent the elevator up to Tony’s labs with Peter giving him a grateful wave when the doors slipped shut.

 

\----

 

“Boss, I have completed the body scan Mr. Hogan requested.” Tony looked up from his desk, his hand smearing a rusty-coloured smudge across his forehead when he pushed his hair back. 

 

“Uh, okay. What’s up with ‘em, FRI?” He fumbled with a screwdriver before placing it down on the bench, exchanging it in favour of wiping his greasy, stained hands onto a small cloth. “Underoos is good, right?” Doubt crept into the back of his head. Normally FRIDAY scanned Peter after patrol, but he had school all day, so Happy must have found a reason to ask the A.I to scan the kid over.

 

“Of course, Boss. The only red flag I found was that it seems Peter has an excess of cholesterol plaque built up in his coronary artery.” Tony frowned. _Wasn’t that the kind of stuff that caused heart attacks…?_ His face must have expressed some kind of confusion, because FRIDAY ploughed on in her explanation. “This could be the cause of Peter’s chest pain Mr. Hogan notified me of.”

 

“Chest pain?” Tony parroted. The last time Peter complained about that he had two fractured ribs from swinging into a stairwell on patrol. ‘ _That’s the last time you try to scoff a burrito and web through the city at the same time, kid_ ,’ Tony had said with an amused grin as he wrapped Peter’s chest up.

 

The elevator beeped and the doors slid open as FRIDAY pulled up a photo diagram of cholesterol plaque. Tony waved the display off the screen hurriedly as Peter made his way into the lab.

 

“Hey, Mr. Stark,” he greeted with a tired smile.

 

“Underoos,” Tony replied coolly. He wiped the last of the oil from his hands and gestured for Peter to dump his bag and slip into the chair beside him as normal. “How was school?” Peter fiddled with the screwdriver Tony had slid off to the side.

 

“Good, yeah. Decathlon practice went well, so that’s good I guess.” The kid looked drained, and Tony didn’t need FRIDAY to point it out to him. There were lines between his brows, like they had been scrunched and furrowed for some time.

 

“Really? That’s good,” Tony repeated. “Because Happy mentioned he missed rush hour.” He quirked an eyebrow and watched Peter wince as he was caught out in a lie.

 

“I… uh, yeah. Yep. Um, I got dismissed from last period kinda early… I did the homework already, so I didn’t have to stay and finish it up like everyone else.” Peter’s lip twitched and his eyes flickered everywhere except Tony’s face.

 

“You’re a great liar,” Tony said facetiously. Peter sighed heavily.

 

“I’m sorry, I just – I dunno.” Tony jerked his chin out to motion for the boy to continue. “I didn’t wanna freak you out or whatever. I’m cool, just left school early is all.”

 

“ _Mhm_ ,” Tony made a noise that highlighted how much he was buying into the kid’s explanation – _not at all_.

 

“I felt weird. My chest hurt so I just had a ‘lie down’ in the nurse’s office. I’m fine,” Peter deflected.

 

“Just tell me what’s up – I’m not going to baby you, kid. You know that, right?”

 

“I guess,” Peter shrugged. He wanted to peel his chest open and manually fix himself like an old stereo he found in the dump. He wished it were that easy. “I just get really sore sometimes. It’s normal.” He picked at a hangnail compulsively. “May gets worried, I didn’t want you to freak as well.”

 

“I wouldn’t.” Tony said stiffly. He didn’t like not knowing what was going on, and he would be lying if he said he was okay with being out of the loop. “You’re literally a super-enhanced-spider… thing. I know for a fact you can handle yourself.” He took a breath, gesturing towards Peter’s chest, “but you’re also allowed to ask for help with very human problems too.”

 

“It just feels so trivial – like I’ve been shot before, _by a gun_ , so a little chest pain shouldn’t be a big deal.” Peter rubbed his sternum in emphasis. “Like, I can lift cars, why is this such a big thing?”

 

“My great grandmother had chest pains; Maria took it really seriously.” Tony admitted. Peter went quiet, Tony never really spoke about his mother that often. “She had a heart attack when she was sixty-two. One of the artery’s got blocked. My mum took me to get an ECG every six months because she was paranoid it’d run in the family.” Tony picked at a spot on the desk distractedly. His nails were stained grey from the grease on the rag.

 

“I’m sorry,” Peter said automatically.

 

“Don’t be,” Tony said. He didn’t sound upset, but Peter could see the worry in his eyes.

 

“My – um, my mum… my _birth mother_ , she went into labour early.” Peter ducked his head; his hangnails suddenly becoming more interesting. Tony rubbed at his own nails with the rag to make sure his attention wasn’t beating down on the kid like the sun. “I was about eleven weeks premature, so that’s why I kinda… y – yeah, with the chest pains n’ stuff.”

 

Tony heard Peter give a shaky exhale from beside him. “Sorry I just – I think I built it all up in my head because I don’t wanna… I want to be _capable_ , I don’t want to give you anymore reasons to see me as a kid.”

 

“Any _more_ of a reason?” Tony pressed.

 

“The whole ferry incident, and how often I mess up on patrol and show up with a bloody nose and a broken elbow.” Tony gave a half-hearted snort, remembering how often things like that would happen. “I don’t want to give you a reason to worry, like how May does. I’m not gonna – I won’t have a heart attack or anything.” Peter looked up then, his head tilting to the side as he gave a small, lopsided smile.

 

“I know, I trust you to take care of yourself like that.” Tony thought for a moment, following what he knew to be Peter’s thought process until he could get to the root of the problem. “Do you get worried having to keep stuff like that from me?” He asked. Peter nodded guiltily after a pause. “Do you think stressing over me finding out could have triggered the pains this afternoon?”

 

“I…” Peter began, hesitating. “I think… yeah, it probably did. I had a check-up and the doctor told me to do a weird breathing course, get classes or something – and I mean, it sounded stupid,” he waved his hand around. Tony could understand, he had his own fair number of doctors recommending things a lot weirder than a breathing course. “But then May was kinda suggesting I tell you about everything because she reckoned you could help. But I mean, it doesn’t really make sense, I was stressing over it and then I got sore during decathlon practice, went to the nurse, got more pains in the car with Happy –”

 

“Probably because you were still stressing,” Tony interjected.

 

“Yeah,” Peter said finally. He took a breath, relishing in the lack of taught energy in his chest. “I think it’s like a cycle. I get pain, then I stress about having the pain, so I get more pains, then I stress more over that, and –”

 

“Yeah, okay. Got it, kid.” Tony put a hand on Peter’s shoulder and removed it again when he remembered that lab work equalled dirty hands. “You’re good now though?” He eyed Peter carefully as he got a confirmation. He could see through the boy like tracing paper when he was lying, and luckily this wasn’t one of those times. “I’m glad.”

 

Peter smiled.

 

“Thank you, Mr. Stark – for not, y’know…” he wriggled his fingers in the air and twisted his wrists in a rounded motion, “freaking out.”

 

“Anytime, Pete.” Tony looked up, his eyes meeting Peter’s with a sincere expression – which was rare for him. “We’ll sort it out.”

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
